


Love and Marriage

by LaufeyOfThay



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaufeyOfThay/pseuds/LaufeyOfThay
Summary: A lovestory and a look even further into the past. While Edwin himself only appears at the very end of it, it still is quite important to the background of my version of him.
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

The cool autumn air seemed lighter up here on the rooftops. Clearer, purer, easier to breathe. It tasted of freedom, of opportunities. Had the moon been full there would have been an inconvenient lack of shadows compared to the murky gloom in the streets below, but as it was there were plenty. Friendly shadows, deep enough to hide you from all unwelcome eyes. Truly a perfect night. A shame that it could not be taken full advantage of.

Vadrak Dekaras, Assassin of House Odesseiron, was a man who disliked seeing things go to waste. Things such as this dark night, with its excellent working conditions. He had spent a couple of hours scouting near the home of his next target, a Red Wizard who had thought to ascend the complex Thayvian career ladder by poisoning certain key people outranking him. Which was, of course, normal Thayvian politics. Now the man was starting to become a threat, and Dekaras' own employer was starting to get increasingly nervous. Thus the assassination assignment; another example of Thayvian politics at its best. Dekaras had amused himself with developing four different plans for getting inside the heavily guarded house and accessing the target. Most people tended to put entirely too much faith in a barricaded front door, and forget that a home was only as secure as its weakest point of entry. Still, the actual completion of the assignment would have to wait until tomorrow night. Assassination was a delicate business, demanding that you were in top shape, both in mind and in body. The distracted assassin more often than not soon became a dead one. And this night Dekaras was distracted, unusually so. No, he did not think he would be able to focus fully upon the mission at hand until certain…personal matters were resolved.

The assassin was currently sitting on the roof of the Rose and Skull Theatre, a tall building so heavily littered with gargoyles that even an ogre probably would have gone unnoticed among them. One of the stone monsters, a particularly ugly thing that looked like a crouching frog with the wings of a bat, provided a reasonably comfortable resting place. Dressed all in black as he was, and with shadows all around, Dekaras felt no particular worry of being disturbed. Besides, very few people would be skilled enough to climb onto this roof in the first place. And if they did, and were stupid enough to intrude on him, they'd soon find themselves falling off the roof again. He had always enjoyed heights, and had taken to coming here when he felt the need for solitude. Of late that was more often than ever before. The assassin sighed quietly and stared morosely into empty space, black eyes distant, his sharp-featured face settled into the emotionless mask he frequently used to unnerve people.

Emotions… Having them he could put up with. But he had long ago come to the conclusion that showing them openly meant taking unnecessary risks. Far too many of the people he associated with in his line of business were the sort to interpret that as a sign of weakness. Disabusing them of that misconception would mean killing them, and he could really do without that. Working for free wasn't the most effective way of life. Furthermore, he liked his privacy. Needed it. Lowering your guard to other people, letting them get too close, that way lay loss of control, even dependence. And if you allowed yourself to depend on others you risked betrayal. Loss. Humiliation. Captivity. Death.

The assassin felt his body tense against the angry flood of memories that threatened to engulf him. He had been a mere child when he last allowed himself to truly and fully depend on anybody but himself.

 _And look what that childish trust and faith earned me_ , Dekaras thought, his lower lip curled into a sneer of self-contempt. _My own loving parents, prepared to force me into life-long bondage and servitude at the word of some senile old hag. Prepared to stand idly by, in the name of the law, as the Witches tortured their own child. As he was robbed of the magic that should have been his. Well, I survived. Thrived even, in this alien soil. And I thought I had learnt my lesson. More the fool I. How could I ever have allowed things to go this far? Why didn't I pull back earlier? No, I had to go and allow myself to lose control, to give in to emotions and my own selfishness. And yet I cannot honestly say that I regret it. No, never that._

The assassin shook his head. I must have gone insane, he thought. Slowly, starting on that very first day. And he remembered another night, a little over one year earlier.

The wizard was only in his early sixties, but a completely shaven head made him look older than that. Black tattoos slithered down its sides like poisonous snakes, tracing complex patterns along the cheeks and towards the corners of a firm, thin-lipped mouth. Sharp eyes and a jutting jaw helped reinforce the impression of tightly controlled power. His red robes were expensive, decorated with arcane patterns that provided more than just elegance. Suryal Odesseiron, head of the main Odesseiron Family, was not a man to neglect personal protection for the sake of looking pretty. He was currently sitting in his personal library, where countless dark volumes loomed on the tall shelves that went all the way to the roof. There was a fire burning in the fireplace, and the wizard was watching it carefully, as if he was fully absorbed by the dancing flames. The assassin who observed him from within the deep shadows near the door wasn't fooled by the nonchalant display. While he was certain that he hadn't been seen, he also knew that he was expected. 

"Master Odesseiron", Dekaras said, stepping out of the shadows. "You requested my presence."

The wizard turned his head and nodded. He looked more tired than before; the assassin noticed. Older. Then again, it had been a couple of years. "So I did", Suryal Odesseiron said. "It is good to see you again. I trust your journey went well. No mishaps?"

"A robbery attempt at one of the stops. A minor inconvenience. I needed the exercise anyway. It wouldn't do to get complacent simply because of my recent progress."

The wizard smiled. "Yes, I thought you would say that", he said. "You always were ambitious." His face darkened ominously. "Unlike my fool of a younger son. And that is precisely why I asked you to come here."

"Master?" Dekaras asked, his voice carefully neutral. Surely his old benefactor wasn't asking him to assassinate his own son. True, Galen Odesseiron always had been a bit of a disappointment to the old man. The older son, Homen, was a powerful wizard in his own right. Galen was a wizard. Just barely. Fluttery and easily distracted, a constant prey for charlatans and tricksters of all kinds, and as obsessive as a dog with a bone once he set his mind on some new hobby. A fairly good-natured soul, but a bad wizard. 

"He needs some discipline", Suryal Odesseiron explained, his face now even sterner than before. "Somebody to take him in hand. To help him settle down. It is time for him to get married, to form a family of his own. Most importantly, it is time for him to get out of my house and be packed off somewhere he no longer can do any great damage to my affairs."

"I see", Dekaras asked. It made some sense. "But may I ask what that has to do with me?" Something told him that the old man wasn't about to ask him to officiate at the ceremony.

The wizard made a careful study of the porcelain figure of a Red Wizard torturing a demon, that was standing on the mantelpiece. It was almost as if he was afraid to go on, but surely that was impossible. "I am getting to that", he said. "You have been away for some time now, to hone your skills. You wouldn't be aware of the full…delicacy of the situation, and the problems the Family face now that the goal is almost achieved, after all this time."

"I might be able to hazard a guess, Master. You have found a girl, I take it?"

"Yes. Yes, we have."

"And what is wrong with her?"

"Wrong with her?" the wizard snapped. "Why should there be anything wrong with her?"

The assassin didn't blink. He simply gave his employer a pointed look.

After a moment Suryal Odesseiron cleared his throat. "You are of course correct", he said. "Loathe as I am to admit it, most of the suitable girls here in Surthay are all too familiar with Galen's…oddities. Even the few I have been able to interest in the family fortune drop out once they've met him. I have been forced to lower my standards, just a little bit."

"So I surmised", Dekaras said. "And who is the lucky woman?"

"Elvira Antravian. She is starting to run out of suitors you see."

It took Dekaras a moment to convince himself that he had heard the name correctly. "Elvira **Antravian**?" he said, his voice for once betraying a hint of surprise. "I have never met the lady, but the Antravians are one of the most influential Families. Powerful, wealthy, skilled wizards."

"Yes, they are."

"So, if you have no objections against her family, the woman herself must be the problem. Is she stupid? Undead? Insane? Or simply ugly beyond belief?"

"None of those. She is a skilled young wizardess, very bright. She is beautiful as well, very much so." The wizard sighed. "It's her temper", he explained. "She is a dreadful harridan. So far, she has managed to scare off all her potential suitors with her tantrums and her imperious ways. None of the young men who courted her so far were able to withstand the full force of her hot temper."

"And you think your younger son might?" Dekaras asked, allowing just the faintest tinge of recrimination to seep into his voice. Annoying as Galen Odesseiron could be, he was an amiable fellow who frequently resembled a confused puppy. Hardly deserving of a fate worse than death. "You might as well ask me to kill him myself. At least I would try to make it relatively painless." 

"He will survive", the wizard said, his eyes suddenly flinty. "And the marriage must go through, or I'll never be rid of…that is, he will never mature. Her family feels the same way. They want her to be happy, and right now she isn't. We simply have to make the two of them cooperate, and that is where you come into the picture."

Dekaras didn't much like the sound of that. "Me, Master?" he said, sounding just a little cooler than before. He made a point of shifting his position so that two of his more obvious daggers became visible. "May I please remind you that matchmaking is not part of my training."

"No, but you do have a flair for diplomacy. Lady Elvira will be staying here for a month, until the wedding. I need you to make sure that everything goes as smoothly as possible. It's a pity we can't keep the two lovebirds apart until the wedding day, but at least you can keep my son from making a complete fool of himself. And keep her from scaring him off." 

Suryal Odesseiron frowned, a gesture that made his face even stonier than before. "There is another thing", he said, and now his voice was very serious. "Her life is in danger. It seems that the Taardor Family didn't take very kindly to her refusing their son's proposal by transforming him into a pig. She will need a bodyguard, somebody who knows how to protect against assassination plots."

"I see", Dekaras said. As he spoke the temperature of the room seemed to drop by several degrees. "Not just a matchmaker then, but a coddler of a spoiled brat. No, Master. I am an assassin, not a babysitter."

"Surely you remember how once I took you in? You were an abandoned child about to die. Haven't I offered you an education and treated you almost like my own son?"

"Yes, Master. And from the start I have repaid you. At first with what secrets of my nation of origin I was in possession of. Later on, with my services. You never did anything out of the pure goodness of your heart, and I was always perfectly aware of that. The agreement between us has always been beneficial to us both, but I no longer owe you a debt. Nothing beyond the oath I swore when I first entered my training, that I would never move against you."

"You would be well paid", Suryal Odesseiron said. He almost sounded pleading.

Dekaras' eyes narrowed. "How well?" he asked. He had never seen his old patron this desperate. The wizard mentioned a certain sum, and the assassin carefully forced his features to maintain a neutral expression. "I might be able to reconsider", he said. "But I will require your full authority to deal with her as I please."

"Excellent", the wizard said, a broad smile on his face. "I will introduce you to her at once." He rang for a servant and sent the man to fetch Lady Elvira. Dekaras noticed that the servant looked extremely pale and nervous at this order.

Some minutes later the assassin could hear a series of loud crashes, coming closer and closer. He gave his employer an inquiring look. The old wizard simply shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. "She is very hard on the doors", he said.

BOOOOM! The door to the library slammed open and a young woman stalked inside, her fingertips still twitching from the after-effects of the spell she had used. She was wearing a creamy white dress, so long that it trailed after her on the floor. Possibly her relatives had thought it would help her look more meek and innocent. It hadn't worked. Her skin was pale, almost as pale as the dress, but her hair was midnight black. It was very glossy and sleek, like the fur of a cat, and it almost reached her waist. Her face was beautiful, in the way a raging thunderstorm or a savage tiger can be beautiful. It was beautiful, but you got the feeling that looking at it too long might turn you into stone or tear your soul from your body. The pair of large dark eyes that dominated it were flashing dangerously.

Dekaras privately decided that any man's likelihood of surviving to old age after taking up with this woman was probably very small. _Then again_ , he thought, _it might just be worth it_. He shook his head. Where had that thought come from, anyway?

"What?" Elvira Antravian snarled. "I was getting ready to retire. What could possibly be important enough to disturb me? Unless I am to meet my husband-to-be at long last. I was starting to think you were ashamed of him." Her eyes scanned the room and finally settled on the assassin who had taken up a position in one corner of the room, comfortably leaning against the wall. "Is that him?" she asked Suryal Odesseiron. "Looks a bit gloomy and underfed if you ask me. And goodness knows where that nose came from. Still, it could be worse. He doesn't look like a complete lout. I should be able to make something of him."

"Sadly, my lady, I am not yours to make something of", Dekaras said, being careful to use his most arrogant voice to match the woman strike for strike. "I am certain I come as something of a disappointment compared to the usual lapdogs leaping for treats from your fingers. Let me make a few things clear. One. I am not a tame dog and I don't jump for you. Two. If I did, I might just bite. And three. I may look 'underfed' as you put it, but in polite company that is better than displaying one's malnourished social skills." Out of the corner of his eye his could see his old Master putting his head in his hands as if he was afraid to watch. Strange. The old wizard was known to summon up demons simply for the thrill of the battle.

The spell hit him full in the face, slamming him back against the wall and pinning him against it. _Good reflexes_ , the assassin thought once the ringing in his ears subsided. _I hardly saw her move. Now just come over here to gloat, my lady, and then we will see who laughs last._

And true enough Elvira was striding closer, an angelic smile on her face. "I'm sorry?" she said. "You were saying?" She leant forward towards her opponent so that their noses almost touched and reached up a hand to touch his face. "Won't you let me pet you just a little bit?" 

The assassin moved fast enough that the movement dissolved into a shapeless blur. While his legs and lower body were still pushed against the wall the spell had missed his arms. One of which now twisted the woman around and pulled her towards him, holding her immobile, while the other firmly gripped her throat. Not hard enough to hurt her, of course, but enough to make her a little uncomfortable judging by the half-choked shriek of outrage. "No", Dekaras said. "I don't think I will."

"How dare you!" Elvira shouted. "Let go of me at once, or I'll…"

"You'll what? Annoy me to death?"

"Aaaargh!" The woman was almost too angry to talk by now and she was trying to make up for it by treading on his toes. _Fortunate that I got those new boots with the steel reinforced toecaps and the hidden blades_ , Dekaras thought. _Let's hope she doesn't progress to headbutting. She seems crazy enough._

"Suryal Odessseiron!" Elvira screamed. "Make your oaf of a son unhand me at once!"

The old wizard was watching the spectacle, quite grey in the face and clutching his chest. "I can't", he said. 

"What do you mean 'can't'? Just order him!"

"What he means", Dekaras explained as he dodged a vicious kick, "is that I am not his son. You seem to have leapt to a premature conclusion, my lady."

"He is right", the old wizard said, now more forceful. "Lady Elvira, this is Vadrak Dekaras, the Odesseiron House Assassin. He will be accompanying you during your stay here and function as your bodyguard. Unless the two of you kill each other off first. Will you please let go of each other before one of you gets seriously hurt? I'm an old man. I need some peace and quiet."

As Dekaras felt the spell dissolve and release him he pushed the woman away from him. He was pleased to see that she didn't lose her balance. Apparently, this spoiled noblewoman was more accomplished than she seemed at first sight. Elvira smoothed her hair down and gave the assassin a fierce glare. He responded with a neutral and polite look designed to further infuriate her.

"I will see you tomorrow, then, my lady", he said. "It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance." This time he was well prepared for her and saw the slap coming his way. He chose not to stop her though. The pain would be brief, and it would serve to lull her into a sense of false superiority if she didn't know exactly how fast he could react. That could come in handy later. 

"I'll see you in Hell first!" Elvira growled before she swept out of the room, slamming the door so hard behind her that about a dozen books tumbled down from their shelves.

"Careful, my lady", Dekaras called after her as she was leaving. "I'll give you that one, but the next time you try hitting me I will have you sent to your room without supper, like any other naughty child." After the door had slammed close, he allowed himself to rub at his burning cheek. "I think that went rather well", he said.

"Really?" Suryal Odesseiron said in a toneless voice. 

"Oh, yes. If I am to be able to work with her, she must be made to realise that I am not one of her tame little suitors, and not to be treated as one of them. No disrespect towards your son intended, of course." Quite an extraordinary woman, the assassin thought. A veritable she-dragon, if a beautiful one. All sharp teeth and searing fire. She will devour Galen, but I think that will not make her any happier. She is not one to appreciate meekness, I think. He turned towards his employer again. "I accept the assignment", he said. "The marriage will take place at the set time."

The old wizard gave him a shrewd look. "I thought so", he said. "You never were able to resist a truly difficult challenge. Very well, I'm counting on you."

"Yes, Master", Dekaras said. Then he paused, as if he had suddenly thought of something. "Unless you have changed your mind and are willing to consider letting me kill her instead. That would be swifter and far less noisy."

On the following morning Elvira Antravian was up and about before dawn, carefully contemplating the contents of her wardrobe. She had brought most of her clothes with her for her visit with the Odesseirons' and as always she intended to make the most of her appearance. Today she wouldn't settle for attractive, or even beautiful. Nothing less than stunningly breathtaking would do. The white dress she had worn yesterday was pretty, but she thought it made her look a little too much like an ice queen. She wanted to look regal, but not completely unapproachable. There were several sets of attractive mage robes, but she wanted something a little less formal than that. Eventually she settled upon a deep red velvet dress, the exact colour of fresh blood. It would contrast nicely against her pale skin and raven hair. The skirt was full and flowing, the bodice and waistline were attractively snug without being too immodest.

Satisfied with her choice Elvira turned to her hair, brushing it until it almost seemed to glow with an unearthly black light. A little extra red on the lips, a little black to further enhance her eyes. Next, perfume. Subtle, yet alluring. Elvira smiled at her own reflection in the full-length mirror. Perfect. Just perfect. _After all_ , she thought, _today I get to meet my possible future husband for the first time. It is only natural that I should make an effort. Perfectly natural._ She ruthlessly squashed the tiny voice inside her head that said that she hadn't bothered this much about impressing her previous twenty possible husbands. _There is no other reason_ , she sternly told herself. _None whatsoever. Except possibly that I would like to shock that impudent, smug, infuriating assassin into something resembling normal human emotion. The gall of that man!_

The eyes of the reflection darkened as if a thundercloud had passed behind them. _Honestly, the man might as well be sculpted from ice. And no respect for rank and nobility!_ The mirror started to crack around the edges. _How dare he touch me…and…and manhandle me like that! Why, the very memory of it makes me feel so…so…_

Elvira's thoughts trailed off and a minute later she came to again, now staring into the mirror with a rather silly smile plastered all over her face. "Oooh!" she screamed. "That's it!" The mirror cracked from side to side, the glass turned into fine powder that softly settled on the floor. "He'll pay for whatever he did to me to turn me into a simpering fool. I will not stand for it!"

The wizardess strode out of the bedroom, still scowling, and slammed the door behind her with a highly satisfying crash. As she walked down the corridor servants nervously hurried to get out of her way, some of them hastily moving the more precious and fragile ornaments aside. _Cowardly ninnies_ , she thought. _It's not as if I'd actually kill them or anything_. She glared at a passing servant-girl and heard a few whimpering sounds of terror as the poor girl made a deep curtsey. 

"Good morning, my lady", a smooth voice said next to Elvira's ear. "I am pleased to see you in such a fine mood this morning." Elvira choked back a startled gasp but couldn't quite keep from jumping. Dekaras was walking right beside her, looking as if it was perfectly natural for him to turn up out of thin air. He gave the still wailing servant-girl a mildly curious glance and the girl squeaked and ran off, quite white in the face. By now the corridor was completely deserted by all other human beings. "Quiet morning", the assassin said. "Just the way I prefer it."

By this time Elvira had found her voice again. "How did you do that?" she asked in an accusing voice. 

"Do what, my lady?"

"You know perfectly well what you just did! How long have you been following me around anyway?" A horrible suspicion struck her. "You haven't been lurking about inside my bedroom, have you?" _Please no, please no, please say you didn't see me with my facial treatment on._

Dekaras arched an eyebrow with an air of wounded innocence. "Please, Lady Elvira", he said. "I do not lurk. Sneak, possibly. And in answer to your first question, I am trained to move silently and without being noticed. As to the second one, you need have no fears."

"Oh", Elvira said with a little sigh of relief.

"I left once I had seen you were safely in bed. It was quite fascinating, really. I never would have pegged you for a woman who likes to wear nothing but her favourite perfume to bed."

Elvira felt herself blanch. "You…you didn't! By all the Zulkirs and the crumbling bones of their ancestors, you did, didn't you? I'll…I'll kill you, you…" She was so furious that her hands were actually trembling as she reached for her spell components. She wanted to…well actually she wasn't certain exactly what she wanted to do to the man in front of her. All she knew was that nobody had ever dared speak to her like that, not even her parents. As aggravating as it was it was also strangely exhilarating. The spell remained uncast. And then she could hear the assassin laugh quietly and saw the amused glitter in his black eyes.

"Pray forgive me my small deception, my lady", Dekaras said. "I assure you that my information came from your retainers and that I have not seen you in an indecorous state of dress. I felt it necessary to provoke you a little, to see whether you would be able to show some measure of control over your temper. I wouldn't want to see Master Galen torn to pieces on his wedding night, after all."

For a moment Elvira could do nothing but stare at the man in front of her. He sounded so serious and yet so very pleased with himself, and there was something really infectious about that crooked smile. Before she knew what she was doing she started laughing as well, so hard that she was almost unable to breathe.

"Oh, dear", Elvira said once she was finally able to talk again. "Oh, dear! You, sir, are a very bad man. I think I'm actually going to appreciate your company."

"Likewise, I'm sure my lady. And now, if you will accompany me, I will introduce you to your suitor."

They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes. "What is Galen like?" Elvira asked. She couldn't help but notice that the assassin didn't answer immediately.

"He is…well-meaning."

Elvira didn't think that sounded very encouraging. "Really?" she said. "Anything else?"

"He is amiable. Also, cheerful, loyal and enthusiastic."

"Oh? And is he housebroken as well?"

"Excuse me, my lady?"

"What I mean", Elvira said, "is that it sounds like you're describing a dog. I keep expecting him to wag his tail at me and fetch sticks." She sighed. "Look", she said. "I know that Suryal expects you to do nothing but praise his offspring in front of me. But please, just tell me the truth. I'll find out eventually anyway. If I am to marry a dog, I'd at least like to know what breed of dog he is."

She thought that the assassin looked just a little bit uncomfortable at that, but it was hard to tell for sure. The man was too damn good at hiding his emotions. She wondered how he managed that, as she herself was likely to vent her frustration on the closest object at hand.

"Very well", Dekaras said after a brief pause. "I suppose some preparation cannot hurt. It may even be a good thing if you know what to expect."

"What? Is he a womaniser? A miser? A drunkard?"

"None of those. He is simply a little…eccentric."

Elvira thought that sounded awfully suspicious. "Why do I get the feeling that when you say that you mean he's stark raving mad?" she asked.

"Not exactly. But he does have his quirks. He gets these…hobbies, you see. Then he loses interest and moves on to the next one."

"Hobbies?" Elvira asked. "What could be so bad about him having hobbies? If we don't get along at least they will keep him out of my way. And what is he interested in at the moment?"

Dekaras rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. "You will have to see for yourself", he said. "I would prefer not to influence your opinion any further. As to what the current interest is, I really can't say. I have been away for some time and only returned to Surthay yesterday."

After a few more minutes of walking they emerged into the large garden. It was a warm and sunny day, with a clear blue sky. The air was saturated with the mingled perfumes of hundreds of different flowers and the buzzing of busy bees. Neatly trimmed grass glowed like emeralds in the sunshine, and dozens of little goblins were occupied with raking the gravel pathways, cutting the tall hedges and watering the flowers. They looked like very efficient workers, Elvira thought. She would have to suggest them to her parents. 

"Now this is strange", Dekaras said in a thoughtful voice.

"What is?" Elvira asked.

"I was told that Master Galen was to be found out here, but I can't spot him anywhere. And it is quiet. Dangerously quiet. I wonder..." Then he interrupted himself at the sound of the yell.

It was a shrill, loud and exhilarated yell, and it came from the tall roof of the house. "Yoo-hoo! Coming through!"

Elvira looked up, and just had time to see the small shape of a man silhouetted against the sky before he threw himself off the roof and came hurtling down out of the sky like a falling star. "Weeeeee!" he yelled. "Iiiiiincooooming!"

Elvira gasped, fully expecting to see the madman squashed on the ground in front of her, and probably all over the wall of the house as well. But then, just as he was about to hit the ground, there was a large 'Sprrrrooooing' and he rocketed back up again, giggling with delight. She could see now that he had some sort of rope tied to his ankle, a rope that seemed strangely elastic and that pulled him back up into the air and out of harms way. This procedure was repeated a few times, until the man came to a halt, gently bobbing upside down in the air at eye-level, and right in front of the wizardess and the assassin. He was wearing purple and green mage robes, Elvira could see that much. Since he was upside down they had slipped over his head, and she couldn't see his face. She could see that he was wearing pink polka-dot underwear though. Not a promising sign. He was still giggling.

"Master Galen", Dekaras said in a voice carefully void of all emotion. "Allow me to introduce Elvira Antravian, your guest. My lady, this is Galen Odesseiron, your devoted admirer."

An hour later Elvira had had about as much as she could take of her host. Once he had been cut down and turned right side up, Galen had turned out to be about her own age. His unchecked enthusiasm made him seem a few years younger, though. He was rather skinny, slightly taller than average, and had messy brown hair. From a narrow face a pair of pale blue eyes peered at the world with a look as if he was constantly pleasantly surprised by what he saw. It had taken Elvira approximately two seconds to decide that he was a fool, if a friendly one, and five more to discover that he seemed to be smitten with her.

Galen kept going on about his new game, that apparently involved tying a rope enchanted to be elastic onto your ankle, jumping off a tall building and bouncing up and down. From the bored look in Dekaras' eyes she thought he would have been happy to dispense with the rope before tossing the wizard off a roof. But he said nothing, and Galen kept chattering to her, now and then interrupting himself to stare at her with a goofy smile that was strangely endearing. _Just like a big puppy_ , she thought. _I suppose I could get used to him_. She steadfastly refused to try jumping off the roof, though.

"You sure are very pretty", Galen said with a dreamy sigh. "Far prettier than the other ladies Father tried to fix me up with. I'll be sad to see you leave."

That shook Elvira out of her reverie. "Leave?" she said. "Who said anything about leaving?"

Galen gave her a surprised look. "They always do", he said. "The ladies, I mean. I try to entertain them, but something always seems to go wrong, and then they get mad and leave. I don't suppose I'll ever get married, really." He sounded a little sad at this but returned to his merry chattering almost immediately.

Elvira fiddled a little with her hair as she thought about this. Something was very different from how her meetings with her suitors used to go. By this time, she would usually have cursed him more than one time and sent him packing. And Galen was certainly annoying enough to merit a curse or two, but she really couldn't bring herself to do it without further provocation. It would be like kicking a puppy. _And besides_ , she thought, _if I did curse him, I would have to leave this house and never return. And…I don't want that._ She felt as if an icy hand was twisting her stomach at the very thought. What was wrong with her? Why did the very thought of leaving make her feel as if death was a preferable alternative? She couldn't have fallen for the fool, could she? Well-meaning he might be, but surely, she wasn't attracted to him?

Elvira shook her head a little to try to clear her thoughts. Galen was still bouncing around her feet, talking animatedly about rope lengths. She had lost the thread of the conversation long ago and simply nodded and smiled in all the right places. A puppy dog for sure. If I told him to beg he would do so in a second. She turned her head to the side to keep from meeting his eyes, not that she thought he'd be able to read her thoughts. As she did so she spotted Dekaras. The assassin had seated himself on the broad stairs leading up to the house and was watching the scene intently as well as keeping an eye on the surroundings. Even when motionless, with no weapon in sight, there was an air of quiet menace surrounding him. She found it quite impossible to guess what he was thinking. _No, that one is definitely not a dog_ , she thought. _More of a black dire wolf, I'd say._ She paused. It was suddenly strangely difficult to concentrate. All she knew for certain was that she had no intention of leaving this place until she knew why she was feeling this strange. And there was one way of making sure that happened, one way that would also give her greater freedom of movement. Besides, if she changed her mind, she could always back out somehow.

"Galen", she said. "I have made up my mind. I may not adore everything about you, but I'm willing to give you a try. Tell your father that I will sign the marriage contract. Our Families will be joined." The young wizard gaped at her for a moment and laughed out loud before hugging her hard.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "My dear, you have no idea how happy that makes me. I've never before met a woman so willing to listen to my conversation. Obviously, you are as kind as you are beautiful. I will have Father draw up the contract at once." 

"Thank you", Elvira murmured. She looked over her new fiancé's shoulder. Dekaras was still watching them, but he was standing now, and there was a strange look on his face. It was almost as if he didn't know how to react, but that seemed impossible. Then she met his eyes for a brief moment and wondered if her plan was as good as it had first seemed or whether she had just made a huge mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

_It makes no sense_ , Dekaras thought. It had been two weeks since Elvira Antravian had signed the marriage contract. Only two more weeks to go until the wedding and he would have earned his commission. So why couldn't he feel more pleased about it? He should have been elated, after all he had hardly had to make any effort at all. He had anticipated complicated negotiations and more than a little persuasion to be necessary. But no, the lady had consented almost at once. True, Galen Odesseiron did have some good points, but the assassin had been certain that he would have to point them out more than once while smoothing over the obvious flaws.

 _Surely, she can't have fallen in love at first sight?_ Then he wondered why that idea should bother him so much. It wasn't as if it was any of his business. It was all extremely illogical. And yet the very thought of those two together made him feel sick to his stomach, not something that was easily accomplished. _It is probably because I expected her to have better taste_ , he thought. _I still can't imagine her actually being attracted to him._ He sighed. He was getting obsessed, and he knew it only too well. Part of the problem was that he wasn't used to not being able to figure things out, and that made the frustration that much worse in a case like this one, when the puzzle pieces simply refused to fit together. Worse, he couldn't quite shake the uncomfortable feeling that one or more pieces were simply missing. 

_Would you listen to that_ , Dekaras thought with more than a little disgust. _Feeling' indeed. Whatever happened to reason?_ But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop worrying at the riddle, as if it was a bad itch inside his head. Elvira…lady Elvira…didn't seem to be passionately enamoured with her fiancé. She was surprisingly tolerant of Galen's follies, at least she hadn't totally lost her temper with him, a miracle in itself. She didn't seem anxious to leave and stay with her own family until the wedding either, something that she would certainly have been permitted had she asked for it. But she didn't seek Galen's company actively, and she displayed no desire to be left alone with him.

Dekaras should know, he was functioning as her bodyguard after all. So far there had been three attempts at her life, all of them from the Taardor family, who were still feeling insulted over their son's transformation into a fat pig. Not that the difference was that great, Dekaras thought. Apparently, the snout still remained, and their grievance was great. They had tried poisoning Elvira's food, and her favourite comb, and there had been an attempt at smuggling a poisonous snake into her bedchamber. Fortunately, her every meal was tasted by the cook who prepared it as well as by the servant who served it, and Dekaras checked her rooms and personal items daily to ensure no traps had been set. A somewhat delicate situation for a young noblewoman, but she had been very understanding. Next time the Taardors would probably try something else and more direct, but the assassin thought that he would surely have been able to find Elvira…lady Elvira…a safe room in which to spend some time alone with her future husband had he really wanted to. _Had **she** wanted to!_ Dekaras told himself. _Not me! Her! No, I certainly don't care one way or another. Why would I? The very idea is ridiculous. And besides, she hasn't asked for it. Not even once._

No, after that first and rather violent confrontation she had rather seemed to appreciate his constant company, and he had to admit that the feeling was mutual. She was very intelligent, much more so than was apparent from her facade of a spoilt noble, and it was a pleasure conversing with her. He didn't have to worry about simplifying things for her to keep up with him, which was something of a relief. On many topics they were in agreement, and on the others, they had had some very spirited and enjoyable discussions, one of which had led to both of them ending up in the garden pond. Still, that was a small price to pay. She even had a sense of humour. _Meaning that she shares **my** sense of humour,_ Dekaras silently admitted to himself. 

Of course, it didn't hurt that she was pleasant to look at either, but he knew that he wasn't the sort to be influenced by a pretty face alone. _Even if she is rather more than just pretty_ , he thought. _Beautiful sounds more appropriate. Not that it makes any difference to me_. So why would a woman like that be content to bind herself to a fool, even if she had scared off her other suitors? Her temper wasn't that bad once you got to know her better. They must all have been extreme cowards and weaklings to let a tiny and rather charming little flaw like that repel them, and certainly unworthy of her. Was she marrying Galen for the money then? But she had plenty of her own. No, it made no sense at all.

Dekaras decided that he couldn't stand this any longer. He would simply have to carefully sound the lady out on the subject and risk rousing her wrath. She had asked him to accompany her on a walk in the park this evening, and that would be a perfect opportunity. Galen wouldn't be coming along; his interests had shifted from jumping off tall buildings to wood-carving. So far, he had managed to cut himself twice. Dekaras had a private bet with the head butler on whether Galen would give it up before or after he lost a finger, and he expected to earn a tidy sum. 

It was a beautiful summer evening, warm and calm, and the air was heavy with the scent of jasmine in full bloom. The sun had just descended below the horizon, and the sky still blazed in gold, red and deep purple. By now most of the birds had gone quiet, except for a nightingale hidden somewhere in the trees. And here was Elvira Antravian now, looking as radiant as the sky itself in a dark purple dress and a gauzy shawl around her white shoulders. Her heavy tresses had been piled high onto her head in a complicated arrangement involving many long and pearl-decorated pins. It also had the effect of showing off her elegant neck to its full advantage. She seemed happy to see him, Dekaras thought, so it should be relatively safe to bring up the subject of her engagement. Then it came to him that she had seemed to get happier day by day. Could Galen really be having that great an effect on her? And why did the very thought make him entertain fantasies about disembowelling the young wizard and boiling him in oil?

"There you are!" Elvira said. "Where have you been? I had hoped…assumed that you would be present at dinner."

"I had a few things to think about, my lady", the assassin responded, offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

“You have seemed very content of late, my lady”, Dekaras said once he and Elvira had walked a while. They were quite far away from the house now. “Am I correct in assuming that your upcoming nuptials are a pleasant prospect?”

Elvira raised her eyebrows. “Are you asking me whether or not I’m in love with my fiancé?” she asked.

“No, my lady. That would be presumptuous in the extreme. I was merely making conversation.”

“Oh, really? But it is what you really meant, isn’t it?”

The assassin gave her a look of polite incomprehension.

“I suppose there’s no harm in me telling you though”, the wizardess said after a moment. “I’ve already told Galen, after all.”

Dekaras felt his self-control slip just a little bit at that. “Told him what, exactly?” he asked, in what he hoped was a casual voice. _She can’t be infatuated with him. She can’t be._

“That I’m not really in love with him.”

“Ah. I see.” _And just why is that such a great relief?_ “Then, if I may ask…”

“Why am I marrying him?” Elvira broke a small twig off a blooming Cassar bush and delicately inhaled the scent of the dark red flowers. “I’ve tried to guess that myself”, she said. “It did seem like a good idea at the time. After all, there aren’t all that many other likely prospects.”

“Nonsense! A woman like you can have anybody she wants.” Dekaras was surprised himself at how vehement he sounded.

“Is that so? And what do you mean by a ‘woman like me’?”

Now that was a tricky question. “Well…”, the assassin said. “Anybody can see that you are a beautiful woman, possessed of wit, charm and grace. A man would have to be a fool not to appreciate that. I am merely stating the obvious facts as I see them.”

Elvira’s eyes grew very wide at that. “Do you really mean that?” she asked. “Honestly?”

“Er…yes. I always mean what I say.”

“But what about my temper? I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with.”

“Oh, that!” Dekaras made a dismissive gesture. “A very minor flaw, if flaw it may indeed be called. Only a coward and a weakling would let himself be dissuaded by the fact that you are not some meek and submissive little girl.”

The wizardess’ smiled as if she had just had the sun and the moon handed to her on a silver platter. Then she reached out and squeezed his hand. “That has to be the sweetest thing anybody has ever said to me in my entire life”, she said. “You really are full of surprises, you know.” 

Briefly the assassin wondered how it was that the night air felt so hot all of a sudden, and why his thought processes suddenly seemed to have ground down to a standstill. “Think nothing of it, my lady”, he said once he was able to get himself back on track again. “I was speaking the truth, that is all. And speaking of surprises, you have not answered my original question regarding your marriage.”

“Oh”, Elvira said, a brief shadow of disappointment flashing across her lovely face. “As I said, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I want a husband, and while he may not be perfect, at least he isn’t a vicious brute, a miser or a pervert. And he adores me, which makes up for at least some of his faults. Besides, I still have a couple of weeks before I truly have to decide. I thought signing the contract would make it easier to get to know…him. Help me make up my mind as to how I really feel about…things.”

Something was very much wrong here. _She doesn’t know?_ Dekaras thought. _Surely my old Master can’t have changed that much in two years?_ He was just about to ask his next question when he heard something. Or rather he heard the absence of something. The nightingale had fallen quiet. There were no other sounds either, except the wind in the trees. It was far too quiet, unnaturally quiet. Cursing himself he realised that his instincts had noticed it as early as a couple of minutes ago, but that he had been too intent on the conversation to pay attention to them screaming their warnings. 

“Do not turn around”, he warned in a quiet voice. “Smile if you can and keep talking. We have company, and I do not want them to know that I am aware of their presence.” 

Elvira showed considerable and impressive restraint, Dekaras thought. She didn’t cry out, or flinch, or do any one of the hundred other things that would have endangered their lives even further. She simply paled a little and continued speaking in a voice that sounded almost natural as she spoke of cheerful, meaningless things. He allowed himself to feel a brief and fierce flicker of admiration before he tuned her voice out and focused on their surroundings. He could almost smell them on the wind. There were five of them, he thought. One was somewhere up ahead, two in the bushes somewhere behind them. Two more at either flank. This part of the park was a little darker, with more trees to create pools of shadow to conceal an intruder. Out of the corner of his eyes he could spot a faint movement in those shadows. There was no audible sound though. They must be very good. The assassin kept an even pace, allowing his training to take over completely. Any assassin should know how to defend against his competition, after all. The world drifted into focus, as it always did when he was on the prowl. It gained more colours, sharper smells, and louder sounds. And as always, the contest of wits and skill made him feel truly alive, even if at this point, he was the one being trailed. That would change soon enough. But he had to keep his companion safe, and so would have to be extra careful.

The attack was swift and sudden. Two men dressed in dark leathers moved out of the shadow, one at either side of the path. Both of them moved in a silent and precise manner that told Dekaras that they were no rank amateurs. They both carried short swords and wielded them low. No theatrically raised weapons for these two. They wouldn’t leave themselves unnecessarily open but would go for the vital organs without hesitation. He could approve of their style, even if he was at the receiving end of it. With a snake-quick flick of the wrist he let fly a throwing dagger, aiming straight for the throat of the man to the left. Much greater chance of a kill there than if you struck the chest, ribs and breastbone were there for a reason after all. The man dodged, and almost managed to avoid the weapon, but it still grazed him. He hissed with sudden pain as blood flowed down his throat. Unfortunately, it didn’t spurt fast enough. _Not the artery then_ , Dekaras thought coolly. _Pity._

Meanwhile Elvira had been busy chanting a spell, her hands dextrously weaving complex patterns in the air while her dark eyes flashed dangerously. As the second attacker drew closer, he was suddenly confronted with two shambling skeletons that clawed themselves out of the ground. Each of them wielded a large iron club, their fleshless faces seemed to be grinning in mockery of all living things, and there was a dull red light inside their empty eye-sockets. They went for the man with no regard for their own safety, bearing down on him relentlessly and forcing him backwards. 

Dekaras would have preferred to finish off the already wounded man, but he perceived a movement behind him and knew that he had to move quickly. With no hesitation he threw himself to the ground, rolling to break the fall. The sword that had been aimed for his back swooshed harmlessly above his head, and the would-be backstabber overbalanced and took a stumbling step forward. That proved to be a very bad mistake on his part. From his position on the ground Dekaras couldn’t quite reach the other man with any weapon wielded in his hands, but then again, he didn’t need to. Supporting himself with his hands and left foot he crouched down low. When his opponent was close enough his right leg flew out in a hard sideways kick, and at the same time his toes activated the hidden device inside his boot, something he had picked to give himself an extra edge in a battle. The blade that emerged was very sharp, and it neatly sliced open the belly of the attacker, thus providing everybody in the immediate surroundings with a lesson in basic anatomy. Agonised screams filled the air as the hideously wounded man slumped to the ground, screeching like any dying animal.

 _And why not?_ Dekaras thought. _Death, after all, is the great equaliser._ Had he had a choice he would have made a clean kill, but there was no time for such luxury. This man would no longer be a threat, but there were three still on the battlefield. _And one other still hidden, he thought. Mustn’t neglect that one._

There was a loud bang, the hiss and crackle of fire, and the familiar smoky scent of meat being left too long in a frying-pan. The skeletons had fallen in battle, but their diversion had given Elvira the time to cast another spell. She had created what could best be described as a column of raging fire, originating from the palm of her hand and focused on the one of the assassins who had sparred with the skeletons. This man wasn’t screaming. It would have been very difficult for him to do so, seeing that his tongue was a charred black mass, protruding from the raging inferno that was his mouth. Instead, he made a faint gargling sound as his flesh burnt and smoked, and his face was peeled away until he resembled nothing so much as a skeleton himself. He stopped trying to scream once his tongue fell off though, and soon stopped moving altogether. Elvira wasted no time in reaching for her spellcomponents once again, and Dekaras was darkly amused as he recognised the spell. Apparently, she had decided to reanimate her former enemy as an undead and send him against his former friends, and so damage their morale. Very ruthless and cold-blooded, he thought. A lady after my own heart.

The man with the wound in the throat was back on his feet again, his hands shaking rather badly as the still smoking corpse of his former ally clumsily lunged for him. He still had his sword, but so did the zombie, and the undead could feel no pain. No, that man was not the greatest threat at the moment. It was more important to deal with the one who now cautiously moved into the battle. This fourth man was trying to circle around from behind, obviously trying to catch his opponents off-guard, and he was getting dangerously close to the wizardess. That could not be allowed. Dekaras moved to intercept them, placing himself between the other assassin and the woman. He had his own twin daggers out by now, a matched pair that he was particularly fond of. Being on the lengthy side they were good for getting at your enemy in a close-range fight while not leaving oneself too exposed, and many enemies were unable to focus on more than one weapon at a time. That left a skilled person plenty of opportunities to be taken advantage of. The two assassins circled each other warily, keeping eye contact. Thrusts and parries were carefully exchanged as they sounded each other out. The other man was good, Dekaras decided. Not excellent, but good. He had even been forced to make an effort. Had it not been for the fact of the rest of the enemies he would have taken his time, slicing away at his opponent’s defences a little at a time. But he needed to keep to his primary objective, ensuring the safety of the lady, even if she was doing very well herself. He would have to be a little hastier than he would have liked. There was still one assassin unaccounted for. 

At last Dekaras saw his opponent’s eyes flicker to the left, and he immediately sidestepped the attack. It was a trap, as he had guessed, and he didn’t fall for the feint. Rather he flowed silently in the direction of the illusionary attack, and so was able to spin around and get behind his enemy. A rapid thrust with each hand in just the right spot, and both daggers found their targets. The man might have been able to live a few minutes with punctured lungs, but the follow-up attack that slit his throat open like an extra mouth took care of that little detail. The brain will only survive without oxygen for so long.

The gutted man was silent and unmoving by now. Elvira stood over the one with the throat wound like some terrifying battle goddess. Her black hair had come undone, and the tendrils of it swirled around her head like living serpents as magic energies coursed through her. Her face was a mask of fury as she fired volley after volley of magical energy globes at the staggering man. Some of them missed, but the others were starting to take their toll, and he seemed badly wounded already. Dekaras prepared to move in to back her up, but something stopped him. A twig. Just a small twig, dropping onto his shoulder from a tree overhead, and an almost inaudible noise. The noise of a crossbow bolt whirring through the air, directly at the unprotected back of the woman.

There was no time to consider alternative courses of action, no time to think at all. Dekaras leapt at once, using a move more appropriate for jumping between rooftops than for anything else. He crashed into the surprised wizardess, bringing her down with him and so covered her body with his own. The searing pain at the left side of his chest told him that his gesture hadn’t been a useless one. It was an extremely bad pain, much worse than he had expected. He had been wounded before, but it was a long time since he had felt anything this bad. He could feel the pain spread outwards, his movements more sluggish as he rolled off Elvira and found that he didn’t have the strength to stand. Vaguely he could perceive words of magic rolling past him like some dark tidal wave, but the lightning bolt that struck and instantly killed the man with the crossbow was nothing more than a dull roar in his ears. It was almost as if the bolt that had struck him had been magical, or…

 _Poison_ , he thought, not knowing if he had said the word out loud or not. It was getting harder to think by the moment as it spread through his system. Even drawing breath was agony, and he couldn’t seem to hold on to his thoughts. There was a rushing, pounding sound now, coming from far away, and drowning all others out. His rapidly fading heartbeat, he knew. Above him he could see Elvira’s face, frantic and pale, her large dark eyes fixed intently on him. Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. Still, even when beside herself, she still was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

 _I don’t think there is anything or anybody else I would rather look upon in my final moments_ Dekaras thought, wondering at how calm he felt. _While it doesn’t exactly compensate for dying, at least it’s a start_. Then his field of vision narrowed into a small pinprick of light, soon snuffed out by complete darkness, and he knew no more.

Technically it really shouldn't be possible to be alive if your head had just been pounded to mush by a giant with a hammer. _Have to be dead then_ , Dekaras thought. _Except I don't think dead people are supposed to be able to be in this much pain. I'm pretty sure it's in the rules somewhere._ While his head was in the lead, the rest of his body seemed to be competing feverishly to win the Most Painful Appendage Award. It even hurt to breathe. Unfortunately, he didn't have much choice about that. Worst of all, he felt too weak to move even if his life depended on it, and that could very well be the case. He couldn't remember exactly what had happened, but it had to be very bad if it had reduced him to this. Applying all of his willpower to the task at hand he managed to force his eyes open. The light wasn't particularly bright, but it still felt as if he was trying to stare into the sun. The headache vengefully escalated into the sensation of a thousand knives spinning around inside his skull. He was vaguely aware of the taste of blood in his mouth and knew that he had instinctively bitten himself to keep from crying out.

 _Can't let them hear_ , he thought. _Can' t let them know. Mustn't lose control again_. He wasn't exactly sure who 'they' were, but if they had been able to do this to him, they had to be very dangerous. Fortunately, his body still remembered its old lessons. While he had been on the run from his old home he had been almost as badly off as this a few times, but he had made himself stay still and quiet so as not to be caught. Not to mention that initial little session with the Witches. That had been extremely painful as well. But the child he had been then had managed to suffer in silence, not to give them that additional satisfaction, and he had never given that particular habit up. It was more than pride; it was a matter of personal survival. 

Even as the assassin was mulling this over, another part of him was instinctively trying to make sense of his surroundings, cataloguing the information available to him. It helped distract him a little. Despite the pain and the humiliating weakness, he didn't think he suffered from any major wounds. Probably a magical attack then. But not the Witches. Had they got hold of him they would hardly have left him alive after they were done with him. Or it could be the after-effect of some illness, even if that seemed very unlikely. He almost never came down with anything. That left poison. Yes. That seemed to ring a bell. He still couldn't remember the exact circumstances though. 

Well, at least he seemed to be lying in a bed, not in some dank dungeon cell. That was a start. They probably wanted him alive for the moment then. That might give him the time he needed to recuperate and escape. For escape he would. One way or another. Then he became aware of something else. There was somebody else in the room with him. He had heard them move just now, a faint rustle of cloth, a foot scraping across the floor. Only one person, but close. Too close. Close enough to touch, close enough to be a danger. He deliberately forced himself to remain relaxed, not to give himself away. If the other person was actively hostile, he might yet be able to surprise them. And then he heard the voice.

"I thought you were going to die, you know", it said. "Promise to never frighten me like that again."

The assassin involuntarily jerked his eyes open at the sound of that voice, and the memories came flooding back as he saw the woman sitting next to the bed. The light was still painful, but he hardly noticed it. 

Elvira Antravian was sitting on a chair close by the bed. She was still wearing that same purple dress, now smudged with soot and grime. At some point she had lost her shawl, and her hair tumbled in a wild black tangle across her smooth shoulders. There was a small fleck of soot on her left cheek as well, a tiny black mark against the whiteness of her skin that only served to add to her beauty. She looked very serious, and her dark eyes were unusually shiny. Almost like a trace of - tears.

"Didn't exactly…do it on purpose", Dekaras said, surprised that he was able to speak at all, even if it was hardly more than a whisper. 

A strangely shy smile spread across the face of the wizardess. "No?" she said. "So almost getting killed to save my life was never your intention, then? Somehow I don't quite believe that."

"My fault…in the first place. Shouldn't have let them…come that close."

"Now don't you dare blame yourself! It was my fault! I'm the one who wanted to walk that far, even though you've warned me against it before. And besides, I was distracting you with my ramblings. I **order** you not to take the blame for this!"

Smiling hurt, but it was worth the pain to see the look in her eyes when he gave her a sly grin. "Order me…my lady?" the assassin asked. "But you forget…I am not in your employ. You can order me…but do not expect…obedience. Always feel free…to ask though."

Elvira's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, and then she laughed. "Oh, you really are impossible", she said. "Fine then. Please don't blame yourself. We both live, after all." She started rearranging his pillows as if to occupy herself with something. "Even if it was a very close call."

She was right, Dekaras reflected. He must have come very close to death, and he still was unclear on how exactly he had survived to wind up in a comfortable guestroom in the Odesseiron Family Manor. Before he had the time to ask the wizardess started speaking again, her voice once again sombre and with a small catch to it that told him the memory still upset her. 

"When I understood that you had been poisoned, I thought you were about to die", she said. "I had a bottle of common antidote with me, and I managed to get a little of it down your throat before you collapsed. Even so, it only slowed the process down a little, it wasn't enough to stop it. You…looked almost as if you were dead already. It was horrible. I knew I had to get you home somehow, that you needed more help than I could provide."

The assassin felt a little puzzled by this comment. While he wasn't some bulky berserker, he should still have been a rather unmanageable burden, particularly when unconscious. "How…?"

Elvira blushed prettily. "Er…remember how I had reanimated one of those assassins that came after us? Well, why waste him, I thought. Undead are unnaturally strong, after all."

"Ah", Dekaras said. He almost wished she hadn't told him that. The corpse in question had been a burnt and disfigured mess, and the thought of being carried around by it wasn't a very pleasant one. On the other hand, it probably had saved his life. "Very…practical of you."

"I had to prod the zombie constantly to get him to move fast enough. It was so dark, and I thought you had stopped breathing altogether at more than one point. I really hope I never have to go through a thing like that again. Anyway, we finally got here. I made a scene and yelled at Suryal until he sent for a cleric. Actually, he probably would have done so anyway, but I wanted to be sure you got the best. We put you in bed, and the cleric was able to fix you up. He said to tell you that you almost didn't make it. He had to use some very powerful spells simply to keep you alive, and he said you'll be weak after the healing and have to stay in bed for a couple of days."

The 'put in bed' part finally made the assassin consciously aware of something that he hadn't really paid attention to before. Namely the fact that apart from the bedclothes of said bed he wasn't actually wearing much of anything at all. _I'm not going to ask_ , he thought. _I'm not_. But of course he had to. "When you…say that", he said. "Do you mean…you personally? I mean…"

Elvira looked a little confused at first. Then she actually winked at him. "Don't you worry", she said. "The cleric who helped me said I was very professional about everything."

"Oh good. I feel… so much better." Dekaras then recalled the second half of her previous comment. "Forget…about staying…in bed", he said, feeling mutinous. "I'll…be fine." He tried to force himself into an upright position and almost ground his teeth with annoyance when the wizardess was able to keep him down simply by gently pressing her hand against his chest.

"Forget about it", she said. "I'm not about to have you kill yourself from exhaustion simply because you feel like being stubborn. "I've got you right where I want you, and that's where you're staying until the healer says otherwise." Her hand was still resting on his chest. It wasn't an unpleasant experience, but strangely worrying. Then she leaned in closer, close enough that he could smell the sweetness of her breath. Her eyes were very large and dark as they looked into his own. "Tell me something", she said. "When you took that crossbow bolt instead of me…did you know that it was poisoned?"

Dekaras thought about this for a second. "Didn't know", he said. "Knew it…was possible. It made no difference. I…had no choice."

"Why? I know Suryal Odesseiron expects you to protect me but dying cannot be part of the contract."

"Because…I cannot bear…the thought of you being hurt. Ever." _Oh, wonderful_ , the assassin thought to himself. _Just had to go and blurt it out like that, didn't you? She must think the poison addled your brains_. And then he could think of nothing else as a pair of hot and silky lips pressed themselves to his own in a passionate kiss. Frustratingly enough he couldn't raise his hands to pull her closer, but at least he managed to reciprocate in kind. 

When Elvira finally pulled back, she was a little flushed and her eyes glittered. "L-likewise", she said. "So, I guess that means we will both have to take very good care of each other. Or we'll both end up getting badly hurt. I - I will see you later." She walked out of the room as if in a daze, still pressing the fingers of one hand tenderly to her lips, and she left a very pensive assassin behind.

Elvira Antravian walked towards her own bedroom, hardly aware of her surroundings. _Did I just do what I think I did?_ After a moment she had to admit that yes, she did. There was no use trying to fool herself any longer. Just that one, brief touch, and still her entire body felt as if it was on fire, tender flames licking her skin all over. The memory of that touch filled her mind, bedazzled her senses. And this was more than rapidly kindled passion, she knew that now. _When I thought he was dying I wanted to die myself_ , she thought. _It felt as if my heart was being torn out of my body. And today, when he looked at me…I felt as if nothing else in the world could possibly matter more. I have never felt like this before, but it could be nothing else. I am in love with him. I really am. And I don't care about anything else._

Elvira entered her room and threw herself down on her bed, smiling happily at the roof. _I hope I didn't shock him too badly, practically throwing myself at him like that_ , she thought. _And then I just walked out. True, I was feeling confused, but I can't imagine how **he** must have felt._ That reminded her of something else. _Does he love me? I think he does, and it certainly felt like it. Still, we're going to have to have a talk._ She thought about going back immediately. _No, he needs his rest. Much as he tried not to show it, I could still see that even our short conversation was a strain. I can't be that selfish. But I want to, I want it so badly…_

Elvira sighed and raked her hands through her tangled black locks, wishing instead that she could be running them through the hair of the man who had invaded her soul. And then there were all the other things she wanted to do to him and wanted him to do to her. She felt heat rising in her cheeks and her pulse beating rapidly. No man had ever been able to so totally enflame her senses. Certainly not her fiancé. Galen. What to do about him? She couldn't possibly go through with the marriage, of course. But he had tried his best, and she would try to be gentle when she broke the engagement. His father was a different matter. Suryal Odesseiron was a dangerous man. She would have to step carefully around him, and she wouldn't risk letting him know the truth until both she and her beloved were safely out of the house.

 _And then, once we're out of here, we can go away. Far away, where they can't find us. We'll be so happy…_ Then she mentally checked herself. She hadn't even broken her current engagement, and here she was already planning another wedding, and to a man who hadn't even asked her to marry him yet. She had always been hasty and reckless; she knew that herself. Always leaping into things. _But he loves me, I know he does. He will ask me. And if he doesn't, then I'll simply ask **him** , and pride be damned. When I want something, I don't give up until it's mine._

The following morning Elvira went back to carry out her plan. She was pleased to find the assassin half-sitting in bed, scowling furiously at the bowl on a tray in front of him. When he saw her enter the room his eyes lit up and he gave her a crooked smile. "You find me at a bad moment", he wryly said, nodding in the direction of the steaming bowl. "They insist on letting me have nothing but broth. I was just about to throw it at the door."

Elvira carefully closed and locked the door behind her, making sure that the wards against eavesdropping were in place. Her heart was fluttering madly inside her chest, it was a relief to see that her hands were still steady. "Oh, really?" she said, positive that she was grinning like an idiot. "Then I suppose it's a lucky thing I didn't arrive a minute later."

Dekaras snorted. "Hardly", he said. "In my current condition I probably wouldn't even be able to lift the bowl, much less hit anything with it. Pathetic, really." She thought she could see what he was doing. Making casual smalltalk until she was ready to proceed, and she loved him all the more for it. Moving the tray to the table by the window she sat down on the bed, not bothering with the chair this time. Their hips were almost touching. She knew it, and he certainly had to know it as well, but he simply quirked an eyebrow at it and said nothing.

He was looking much healthier today, Elvira decided. That horrible grey tinge was gone from his face, and his cheeks and eyes weren't quite as sunken. Eyes as black as the sky on a starless night. You could fall into them and never reach the bottom. She gave a small shake of her head. What was she doing, staring at him like a fool? But he was very good-looking after all. She found it hard to fathom that she hadn't seen that immediately at their first meeting. _And the fact that he doesn't really seem to be aware of it himself only adds to the attraction. The man has cheekbones half the girls in Surthay would cheerfully kill for. And those eyes… And that hair…_ Said hair was usually gathered at the back of his neck to be out of the way, but right now it was unbound and fell smooth and black against his shoulders. Her fingers were itching to play with it. _Even that hawkish nose fits him somehow. And when he smiles it is like seeing a dark cloud crack to let the sunshine through. I want to see him do that more often. No, I want to **make** him do that more often. Then there's the way he moves, like a prowling wolf, and the sound of his voice. Soft and caressing or dripping with menace. I could listen to it all day, it makes my entire body feel like he's touching it all at once. And speaking of body…_ She knew that she was blushing furiously by now, but she couldn't help herself. She hadn't really tried to look when they were getting him into bed, but obviously she had been unable to keep from noticing a thing or two. Strong. Lean. Agile. The wolf image floated unbidden to the surface of her mind again. 

"We need to talk", she blurted out, painfully aware that talk wasn't all she wanted to do.

"Yes", the assassin agreed, and she thought he sounded just a little breathless. "Yes, we do."

"I didn't plan for this to happen, you know", Elvira went on. "I don't usually act like this."

"Neither do I."

"It's just that you're all I can think about lately. And…when I thought you were about to die, I felt more frightened than ever before in my life. I wanted to die myself. It is…it is as if you have taken half of my soul, and now I can only feel complete when I'm with you. I…I just wanted to tell you that I…"

"Elvira", the assassin said in a soft voice, and she fell instantly silent. _He said my name! No 'my lady' either. Just my name…_ That one word made shivers run down her back. "I think I should tell you", Dekaras said, "that I have felt something very similar to what you so eloquently describe. I could almost imagine you were an Enchantress and that you had enspelled me into this obsession with your every word and glance. Except I know you too well to think that you would ever be satisfied with that kind of triumph. No, these feelings are all my own, even if it took me long enough to recognise them. I feel extremely dense."

"You're not…"

"Well, it appears my recent accident was enough to knock some sense into me. I know my own mind now." He hesitated a moment. "You have to understand that speaking this openly about it goes against my very nature", he said. "I always prefer to keep my guard up. But since you seem to have got inside it already, I suppose there can be no great harm in telling you that…I love you. I may not be very good at showing it, but that makes it no less true."

The wizardess felt tears fill her eyes. "I love you too", she said. She took one of his hands between her own two and brought it closer to her face. A shudder of delight shook her as she felt long fingers cupping her cheek. "I love you so much it hurts. And I wouldn't trade that pain in for anything." Their second kiss was, if anything, even more satisfying than their first. Elvira felt dizzy when they finally pulled apart, and she could see that she wasn't the only one. 

"If only you hadn't signed that marriage contract", Dekaras said a few minutes later, sounding very frustrated. "I never would have allowed things to go that far if I had thought anything like this was going to happen."

"What do you mean? Sure, there will be a lot of fuss, but I've jilted suitors before, haven't I? I'm famous for it, remember?"

"Perhaps. But you hadn't signed a contract with Suryal Odesseiron then. He will not let you go easily, not when that means being forced to put up with his son. He won't disinherit Galen, that would reflect badly on the Family, but he does want him married off. And he will stop at nothing to get things his own way."

"What can he do about it? I read the contract, there was no mention of any bad consequences should I break it."

This comment didn't seem to make the assassin any calmer. "No mention?" he asked. He suddenly turned very pale. "Oh no…" he whispered. "Oh no…"

"What? What is wrong?"

"When you signed the contract, who signed it first? You or he?"

"He did, but what does it…"

"And did anything out of the ordinary happen? Anything?"

Elvira thought about this for a moment. "Just one small thing", she said. "I almost feel silly for mentioning it."

"Tell me."

"Well, if you insist. He signed his name with a spell. Lots of glittery gold dust, flashy colours and all. Very gaudy, but he said he wanted something a little more festive than an ordinary quill. What does it matter?"

"Suryal Odesseiron never does anything without good reason, and they don't call him 'the Spider' for nothing. He is famous for his traps, you know. We really need to take a closer look at that contract."

Elvira frowned. "That is easily managed", she said. The spell she cast was a fairly simple one, but very useful. Her own copy of the marriage contract popped out of thin air and landed in her open palm. "See?" she said after she had read it through. "Nothing wrong."

"Do some divination on it. I think you will find that signature is more than just a name." 

Elvira shrugged. "Very well, but I think you're overreacting." She smiled. "Still, if it will make you happier…" She concentrated on the contract and cast a spell designed to bring out hidden things. Immediately writing leapt out at her and was projected into the air, luminous golden letters that had been hidden inside Suryal Odesseiron's signature, so small as to be invisible to the human eye. Elvira read them, her eyes widening more with each cleverly constructed sentence.

"It is as I feared", Dekaras said. "I remember he was researching that spell before I went on my journey, but I didn't know he had been able to get it to work or I would have thought to warn you against it."

"But…but it says here that if I break the contract my Family will have to pay him an astronomical amount of money! We're wealthy, but nothing like that."

"No. And I'm afraid he's counting on that. You see, if they refuse there will be official war between the two Families, and he knows that the Odesseirons are more powerful in that situation, especially since the Tharchion would support him. He is certain that he would win, and he would still gain all of your Family's assets if he wiped them out."

"But he tricked me!"

"Yes. But the contract is still legal under Thayvian law. You signed it. They will say that it is your own fault if you didn't read the small print."

Elvira jumped to her feet. "How dare he do this to me!" she snarled. "To **us**! How dare he chain me to his idiot of a son when I…" She faltered. "But I don't really have much of a choice, do I? If I refuse… My Family will be ruined. My parents…my sisters."

"And it is even worse than that", the assassin said grimly. "Even if you didn't mind about that he would still come after you personally."

"And you as well?"

"Without a doubt. I would do my utmost to protect you, of course. But he never gives up, and even I have to sleep sometimes. We would be in constant danger wherever we went. You would never be able to rest easy, never be able to relax. I can live with that, but I would hate to have to see you go through it."

"And would you rather see me married to a giggling fool?"

"No! Of course not!" The assassin sounded almost desperate and he struggled to get out of bed, but then slumped back against the pillows, clearly exhausted. 

The wizardess felt a sharp pang of guilt. Upset though she was, how could she snap at him when he was still unwell? She knelt by the bed and gently smoothed his hair back. "I'm sorry", she said. "I know you only want to help me."

"I'm sorry too", Dekaras said in tired voice. "It has to be your own decision. As much as I wish to help you, I mustn't influence you. Know that I will support you whatever you choose." He thumped his fist against the mattress. "If only I had thought to ask him how he intended to set up the contract! I never would have let him do this to you, even if I hadn't been in love with you."

"You are only human. I don't expect you to be omniscient, and neither should you demand that of yourself, my proud Wolf." Elvira managed to smile as she said the last, though it was a rather sad smile.

"But I…what did you call me?"

"My Wolf?" She blushed a little, pleased to have the conversation take this turn. "You were right, you know. You aren't a tame lapdog, and neither do I want one. But a black wolf, a skilled and deadly hunter…that I much prefer."

"Really?" The assassin raised an eyebrow, but he sounded rather pleased. "With this beak of mine I always fancied myself more of a raven."

"You can be a raven to the rest of the world if you like. To me, you will always be my Wolf." She smirked and ruffled his hair. "Besides, wolves are much more pettable." Then she laughed as he growled playfully and pretended to snap at her fingers. _It will be alright_ , she thought. _One way or another. It has to._


	3. Chapter 3

In the end Elvira went along with the wedding. It was the sane thing to do, the reasonable thing. Normally she wouldn't have cared much about being reasonable. But she cared for her Family, enough not to want to see them ruined, perhaps altogether destroyed. She couldn't allow that to happen. She cared for her beloved as well and had no wish to put him at risk simply to satisfy her needs. _I will hurt him however I choose_ ; she had thought. _I might as well hurt him in a way that leaves him still alive. Or is that the greater cruelty?_ She did not know. She could not know. But she still had to choose. He was very understanding, as she had known he would be. The pain he must have felt wasn't readily apparent, he kept it well hidden beneath a mask of calm indifference. But she knew it was there, as was her own. Occasionally she could catch a glimpse of it as the wedding arrangements proceeded with the merciless force of an avalanche. 

Galen she could barely tolerate anymore. He was still running around after her like an adoring puppy, trying to catch her attention, but she could hardly keep from kicking him. She knew that this whole thing wasn't his fault, that he hadn't been in on his father's plans and that he cared for her as much as he could care for anybody. But he was like a chain holding her prisoner, dragging her down. The very thought of his touch filled her with revulsion. At least she had been promised a separate bedchamber once they made the move to the place prepared for them in Pyarados, where Suryal Odesseiron had managed to secure a low-level position for his son. Once she produced the expected heir, she didn't intend to have anything more to do with him than was strictly necessary. She knew that she had always had an explosive temper. But now there was also a hardness at her core, a hardness that could make her dangerous. Suryal Odesseiron had made sure of that when he deprived her of her beloved, even if he hadn't known that that was what he was doing. She didn't think it would have stopped him anyway.

Once, just once, she had brought the subject up with her beloved. Wouldn't it be better if the old man were to die? Then they would both be free. He had simply looked at her and explained that he couldn't do that. The old man had saved his life once, and as repayment he had given his sworn word never to harm him. He couldn't do that, not even for her sake, not even indirectly. She had understood, but she didn't like the thought of him owing that old reptile anything. It simply wasn't fair…

And now it was the night of her wedding, the ceremony was over and done with, and she was officially an Odesseiron. _Even if I will never be one in my heart. Never_. She had been the perfect bride, in her perfect white dress, with perfect white flowers in her hair. She had done it all. The speaking of the vows, the singing, the kneeling and the standing. She had even managed to smile when Galen kissed her afterwards, closing her eyes and pretending that it wasn't really him. She hadn't been able to spot her beloved during the ceremony, not until the very end. When she was about to speak the bride's traditional words of love and fidelity, she had felt them catch in her throat. Then she had turned her head slightly, and seen the almost invisible shadow in the corner, out of sight to everybody but herself. She had spoken the words alright, and she had meant them too. With any luck Galen would never know that she hadn't been speaking to him.

And he would never know that her true wedding night had been the night before this one. They had met in secret, she and her Wolf, and it had been as perfect as she had known it would be. It had been her own idea, and he hadn't wanted to go along with it until she assured him that there were spells to disguise what had happened. The kind of spells that mothers taught their daughters, and that would make everybody believe she came untouched to her husband. Only then had he agreed, and she knew that he still feared what would happen to her should anybody suspect. She hadn't cared. She had wanted him, needed him, too much to care. Her beloved should be the first man to touch her that way, nobody else. Afterwards they had lain in each other’s arms, and as she felt that wonderful closeness she could also feel tears trickling down her cheeks. When he had asked her what was wrong she had told him that this was her wedding night, the only one that counted. He had kissed her once more and asked her to always remember that, as he certainly would.

That had been a night she had hoped would never end. But ended it had, and the sun had risen, the nightingale giving way to the lark. Now the night had come again, and she was married to a man she neither loved nor respected. She was standing in the bridal chamber, waiting for her husband to knock upon her door. With a small sigh she reached up to remove the flowers from her hair. 

"Surely that is a task better suited for your husband?" The voice that spoke into her ear was a silky drawl that sent a delicious shiver down her body. A hand caught her own in a steady grip, while another deftly removed every single flower from her black hair. 

"Are you mad?" she whispered, even as she wanted nothing more than to lean into his embrace. "Galen will come any minute."

"He won't. He is still busy downstairs, entertaining the guests. Well, what he calls entertaining. We have a few minutes." He gathered the flowers together and hid them somewhere on his person, sliding them into an invisible pocket.

"You have stolen my flowers", Elvira said in an imperious voice. "You're going to have to give me something else in return."

"Indeed? Such as this, perhaps?" They came together, starved for each other's touch and it was a couple of minutes before either of them could speak again. It was the assassin who first found his voice. "There is something else I wanted to show you", he said. "Something less…physical, but hopefully equally pleasing." With a flourish of his hand he presented her with a tightly rolled scroll. Elvira opened it and hastily read it through.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" she asked, unable to keep a small tremor out of her voice.

"Yes. What you see before you is my new contract of employment. As of this day, I am officially in the service of Galen and yourself. Which of course means that I shall be forced to accompany you both to Pyarados. A grave sacrifice, but one I am willing to make." He gave her a worried look. "You do want me to do this, I hope? It will be dangerous, but I think we can make it work."

The fierce way in which she clung to him was answer enough. "But how?" Elvira asked.

"It took me a while, but I was finally able to make Galen suggest it to his father. I thought it better that the idea should come from him, and I had to be subtle so as not to rouse the old man's suspicions. That is why I didn't tell you before, I didn't want to disappoint you in case I failed." He smiled at her. "And so, I have made a sort of wedding present of myself", he said. "I do hope you will take better care of me than of that ugly vase I saw you break earlier when you thought nobody was watching."

"Is there anything you don't see?"

"Not when it comes to you, no. I seem to have to developed a certain obsession."

Elvira smiled and looked up at him through her eyelashes. "So, I am your employer now, am I? Does that mean that I get to command you now?"

"Certainly."

"And are you going to **obey** those commands, my Wolf?"

"Now that, my love, is a different matter entirely, and one that is always open to negotiation…" And as she leaned into the touch of her beloved Elvira Odesseiron decided that maybe the future to come wouldn't be all that bad after all.

It was fifteen months after that fateful wedding night. Fifteen months of combined love and torment. Dekaras knew that he would have to make his decision now, tonight. He would have to go or to stay. And that was why he was currently perched on top of a grinning gargoyle on the Rose and Skull Theatre. To try to make up his mind. It should have been a simple choice. He still loved Elvira as much as before. Of course, he didn't really want to leave her, to never see her again, and Galen was no closer to figuring out the truth. No, but another factor was about to enter into the equation, and he didn't know whether he could cope with this as well, no more than when she had first told him.

 _Yes, I am positive_ , she had said. _I really am with child. And…it's yours. The divination spells don't lie about things like that_. She had looked very worried when he didn't immediately respond. _Aren't you pleased? I thought you would want me to have a child. Your child._ She didn't understand, of course. How could she? 

_I am pleased_ , he had told her. _I love you, and under other circumstances nothing would make me happier than for you to bear our child. But there is something else…_

_What? Are you afraid of others finding out? I wouldn't allow that to happen. There are spells, enchantments and illusions to foil divination, to make everybody believe that Galen is this child's father. We will be in no danger unless we take needless risks. I was foolish and impulsive once, when I signed the contract without thinking things through. I will make no such mistake again. We must simply be very cautious._

_And that, my love, is precisely the problem. If I am to stay with you, then nobody must ever suspect my true relationship with that child. Bad enough that you and I are forced to maintain a neutral facade to keep our secret. At least we both know what we really are to each other. But a child is different. We couldn't trust it not to accidentally betray a secret like that, so we would be unable to tell it the truth until it was fully grown, maybe not even then. The child would have to grow up believing Galen to be its true father. And I would have to watch that…that imbecile rear our child, while I was unable to interfere. I would have to be there all the time, watching, but never able to take too much outward interest in it or able to show it too much affection. Only that way could I keep you both safe. I could do it, but I fear that it would also destroy me. Perhaps you as well._

_But…_

_No. You will bear the child, and I will be here for you until it is born. Then I think I must leave, for all our sakes. It is the only rational thing to do. If I stay, it will only bring us grief. Perhaps…perhaps once I am gone you will even be able to feel closer to your husband._

They had fought about it, more than once, neither of them willing to relent. Elvira had said that she understood his point of view, but she simply wouldn't accept it. In the end they had agreed that he wouldn't make a definite decision until after the child was born. Otherwise the arguments might tear them apart, now when they needed to be united more than ever. He had been happy to agree. The last thing he wanted was to cause her worry, not that he was going to change his mind of course. As the pregnancy progressed, they both carefully refrained from bringing up the topic.

And now the long-awaited night had come. The child would be born, and he would soon go home to see it for the first and last time. It would be a son, so Elvira had told him. Tomorrow he would leave, never to return. Judging by the stars it would probably be over now. He had been out here for a long while. After all, there was no valid excuse for him to be present at the delivery, and if he couldn't help, he wanted to be as far away as possible. But now it was time to go. The assassin rose and stretched. With a single, fluid movement he leapt to the adjoining rooftop, and then to the next one. He had always enjoyed this mode of travel, he imagined it felt a bit like flying, and it made him concentrate on what he was doing and so kept all dark thoughts at bay.

The room was dark and quiet when he climbed in the window, with just a sliver of moonlight like a pale river across the carpet. There were shelves along the walls, shelves holding toys. A magical globe of faint white light hung above the crib, illuminating it. The assassin walked up to it. His feet, as ever, made no sound. He hardly needed to think about that anymore. There was a small shape inside the crib and a tuft of fine black hair stuck up above the white quilt. Carefully, so as not to wake the baby, the assassin pulled the quilt aside. 

The baby was sleeping contentedly and quietly. It had probably been fed recently. Long lashes rested against the round cheeks, giving it an air of angelic innocence. Privately Dekaras suspected that any offspring of Elvira and himself would be bound to give that appearance the lie as soon as it was able to form coherent sentences. Not that that mattered at the moment. He couldn't take his eyes off the child. So small, but still so perfect in every way. 

Perhaps…perhaps he could touch it. Just once. Then he would leave. The baby's cheek was as soft as it looked, like a flower petal. Like…the petals of those flowers Elvira had worn in her hair on her wedding night. He still had one of them. It had cost a small fortune, but he had finally found a wizard who had agreed to encase it in a limited stasis spell. That flower would never fade.

The baby's tiny hand rested against its cheek. The assassin gently touched it, marvelling at the perfection of those minuscule fingernails. There seemed to be the correct number of fingers as well. Then the still sleeping infant grabbed hold of his finger, clutching it firmly in that small hand as if the child never wanted to let go. 

"Well now", the assassin whispered to himself. "Would you look at that?" He was still standing there, watching, when he heard a voice behind him.

"You approve?" Elvira looked tired, but in the moonlight she almost glowed. "I think you must, or you would never have been distracted enough for me to surprise you like that."

"Ah…" Dekaras said, trying to save face. "I suppose I do. At least he doesn't seem to have been saddled with my unfortunate nose."

Elvira smiled. "Would you like to hold him? You know, it's funny. Despite being fed and clean he kept screaming, and nothing I did would calm him. And then he suddenly just stopped and fell asleep with what I could have sworn was a smile on his face. That's when I knew you were coming home. I was afraid you'd leave without having seen how beautiful he is."

"Certainly not", the assassin said and picked the baby up. It sighed in its sleep. "I said I wouldn't. And you are quite right. He is beautiful." The baby sighed again and opened its eyes. They were very wide and very curious. Surely a new-born shouldn't be able to look that focused. But he could have sworn that the baby was staring right back at him, staring into the darkest recesses of his soul and still giving nothing but complete love and trust in return. 

"You won't really leave, will you?" Elvira asked in a conversational voice.

"No", Dekaras said. "No, of course I won't. I will stay for as long as you both want me to." He sighed. "I had better take care not to let that child wrap me around his little finger though. Or at least not to ever let him notice it."


End file.
